Before he snuck into the room he turned. There was lust and violence there, but also patience. He still needed her and they both knew it. “You had better not double-cross me, Abigail, or I shall bring down the wrath of the devil himself upon you and yours.” Then he was gone.
She’d die before she became Patrick Neville’s toy. She quickly moved back to her bedchamber, sick to her stomach. Patrick’s final glint of victory saw her biting her bottom lip. Were they missing something? What else was the snake up to?
The bath was forgotten as she went in search of Guy.
* * *
—
Something was definitely not as it should be since that horrible man Mr. Patrick Neville arrived this morning. Earlier, Dora had seen Abigail and Molly in a heated discussion and in the afternoon, Kit had sent her a note saying he was sorry but their outing was postponed today because he was engaged in important estate business and could not meet her. Just as well really, as Molly had not left her side. In addition, she and Molly did not go down to dinner. At first she thought it was because it was family only, due to their guest, but Kit and Abigail were attending, while she and Molly dined in their room.
What on earth was going on?
It had to be something to do with their visitor. Mr. Neville came to the library briefly during the day. He didn’t say anything to her except good morning. He’d simply selected a book and with a nod to Molly left. But Dora had taken one look at him and was instantly afraid. There was something about his posture. A menace that clung to him like a foreboding fog, cold and filled with unseen danger.
She lay in the dark of her bed and tried to count to one hundred. Molly was already asleep, a soft snore coming from her trundle bed over on the other side of the room. Dora could not even focus to dream of Kit. Usually she fell asleep to the memory of his kisses. But tonight the atmosphere was heavy and it made her feel afraid. She wished she knew what she should fear.
She rolled over and pummeled her pillow. Forcing her eyes to close she focused on the image of Kit’s face. Just then she heard footsteps in the hall. She looked up to see a piece of paper slide under her door. She glanced across at Molly but the other woman slept undisturbed.
Dora tiptoed across the floor and picked up the missive. She inhaled and with a smile her excitement grew. It held Kit’s scent. Unfolding the paper her eyes eagerly scanned the words.
Dearest Dora,
I missed you today. Meet me in the garden near the dolphin fountain as soon as you can. No need to dress. I just want a good night kiss. Hurry…
Yours always,
Kit
She peered across at Molly, who continued to sleep. Dora would be in trouble if she woke to find her gone. But I am no longer a child. I’m eighteen and considering marriage. I should be able to see Kit alone.
On feet barely touching the floorboards, she grabbed her robe and slipped from the room.
* * *
—
The gallop to Rose’s cottage was the longest in Abigail’s life. She understood Guy’s men were hidden all around, and she also took comfort from the small pistol in the pocket of her trousers. She dressed as a man because it was easier to run and ride in trousers than a skirt. Of all the scandalous things she’d done in her life, no one was going to worry about her wearing trousers, dressing like a man—no corset, simply a white linen shirt with a dark jacket over it. She suspected no one would even notice she was a woman.
She reached the cottage without seeing anyone. The sky was clear of clouds and the full moon was like a brightly lit lantern in the sky. She tied Lady’s Secret to the small post near the water trough. “I hope I won’t be too long, my beauty.” She slipped her mare a sugar cube as she turned to enter the house.
She had to steel herself not to look round. She had to play this as if it was indeed a simple liaison with her lover.
She closed the door behind her. With the curtains undrawn Abigail could find her way around Rose’s little cottage easily. She located the candle on the center table and lit it with the flint. She busied herself cutting up some bread and cheese, and pouring the brandy that was there as a prop for the evening. She did however notice her hands were shaking.
The evening was warm but the fire had been lit anyway and she stoked it and put another log on just for something to do. As she rose from a crouch in front of the grate, the door opened and Guy stood in the doorway. He looked so handsome it took her breath away.
Remembering what this evening was supposed to be about she raced forward and threw herself into his arms. As he caught her, he whispered in her ear, “Be careful what you say, he’s already in the cottage.”
She stiffened for one moment and then she took his mouth and kissed him as if her life depended on it. After a few moments she broke the kiss.
“Now, that is a greeting I have desperately waited for all day,” and Guy patted her bottom as she walked to the table. “I do so love you in trousers, and not just because it’s so much fun removing them from your slender legs.”
She removed her jacket in a striptease motion and Guy sank onto a chair, his eyes engrossed in her display. When she flung the jacket over the back of a chair she said saucily, “Are you hungry? I have cut up some cheese and the bread is fresh.”
“I’m hungry all right, but not for food. Come here,” and he pulled her onto his lap, his hands molding her breasts through the thin linen. For once his touch couldn’t warm the ice in her veins. He kissed her neck and bit her earlobe until she squirmed in his lap. How far would they have to take this? Would Patrick wait until they had made love before pouncing? She hated the idea of him watching them.
How embarrassing, were Kit and Brodie here too? They needed witnesses to Patrick’s attempt on Guy’s life, if they were to build a case against the bastard.
“While I would love to sit back and watch your show I find that time is against me.” Patrick moved out of the shadows with a pistol pointed at them.
Guy rose slowly to his feet, gently unfolding her until she was standing next to him and then the silly man pushed her behind him. “Abigail, go outside and ride back to the house.”
The pistol pointed at them cocked. “No one leaves until I say so. And she comes with me. She’s been working for me.” He gestured with his other hand for Abigail to walk to him.
“She doesn’t work for you. And she stays behind me.”
Patrick’s eyes narrowed. “You bitch. Whatever he offered you I’ll double it.” He gave an evil smile. “Perhaps I won’t have to. Once I tell my dear cousin all about you he will probably hand you over, as I will force him to hand me everything else he owns.”
“Nobody owns me,” Abigail said boldly as she stepped to stand by Guy’s side. “Not you, not his lordship.”
“But that was not always true, was it, Abigail,” Patrick said with a smirk on his face. “Dear cousin, I hope you have not been fooled by her virtuous performance of a gently bred and schooled young woman. She grew up in the most notorious of London brothels. She was quite the attraction. I think her mother sold her so many times half of London boasted of taking her virginity.”
Abigail stood letting the shame strip her bare. She could not look at Guy. The pain of all she’d endured bombarded her mind with memories and her knees almost buckled. She’d tried so hard to rise above her early life, to put the derogation behind her. To have it brutally revealed to Guy, a man she held in such high esteem, made her want to curl up with shame. What would he think of her now?
All she hoped is that Dora never learned the truth.
Guy gave a low curse. “You bastard. I’ll kill you for those words,” and Guy made to step toward Patrick.
Patrick swung his gun to point at Abigail. “Not another step or she’s dead. It would seem I’ve misjudged the situation. You care for her. Were you stupid enough to fall in love with her all the while I’d sent her here to seduce you?”
Abigail still could not look at Guy. “I never seduced for you. I loathe ev
erything you stand for. A man preying on the weak. I left that life behind and I’ll not let anyone drag me back there.” With that she lifted the pistol she’d taken out of her pocket and pointed it at Patrick. “I’d rather die than let you hurt the people I love,” and she fired.
The sound of the gunshot was followed by silence. She sunk slowly to the floor, the pistol falling from her hand. She didn’t care that she’d hang. She’d saved Dora and Guy, and rid the world of an evil man.
Then to her dismay she heard Patrick laughing.
Chapter 15
Guy’s heart was in his mouth. She’d shot Patrick! Unfortunately, she’d only winged him in the arm. His laughter made Guy’s skin crawl. His cousin’s gun was now pointed at him.
“I could kill you now. Then kill her and blame it on a lover’s quarrel I tried to stop and got injured for my trouble.” As the pistol rose to point directly at his heart Guy wished he had never agreed to have Abigail here with them. He was supposed to have protected her.
Before Patrick could shoot, Brodie jumped like a ghost from above and took Patrick to the floor. With the wind knocked out of him, Patrick was soon overpowered and his gun removed from him.
“Ah, but you are not alone, you bastard,” said Kit as he jumped down from where he and Brodie had been concealed in the rafters. “Are you sure we can’t just kill him?”
Brodie had pulled the injured Patrick to his feet. Blood dripped down his arm from Abigail’s shot. Patrick’s plan had been foiled and yet he was still smiling. Why was that? A prickle of unease deflated the elation of the moment.
Brodie slammed Patrick up against the wall as he began to laugh again.
“You’d best beg them to let me go if you want to see dear Dora again.” Patrick directed his comment to Abigail, who was still sitting on the floor in shock. She looked up, her face whiter if that was at all possible. Then she went flying across the room like a madwoman, clawing at Patrick’s face, screaming for him not to touch Dora.
Kit was right beside her, pulling her away from Patrick and handing her into Guy’s arms. “What have you done with Dora?” Kit demanded.
Abigail was sobbing.
Patrick sneered at Guy. “You’re not much of a strategist, are you, and here I thought you were the war hero.” Guy at this stage had to agree. He thought they had kept Dora safe. Perhaps Patrick was bluffing but his next words vexed that. “My men took Dora as insurance. It was easy. A note from Mr. Hunter for a midnight tryst was all it took. It would appear all the Pinehurst women are free and fast with their favors. You’ll get her back once his lordship here has signed a document appointing me trustee of the estate.” He gave Kit a wink. “And I’d persuade him fast before my men get bored and play with her.”
Kit was on Patrick in a flash. His fist connected with Patrick’s nose and blood splattered the wall.
“Keep that up and you’ll never get her back.” Patrick spat blood from his mouth.
“Where is she,” Kit asked, his fist hovering over Patrick’s swollen face.
“Somewhere you will never find her without me.”
Abigail wrenched out a low cry. She sagged in Guy’s arms.
“We will find your sister, Abigail. We will do whatever it takes.” Guy hoped he could honor that promise.
“Sister. Dora’s not her sister. Dora is her daughter.” Patrick laughed again. “She’s not been very forthcoming with you about her background. Still, I’ve always found women are the best liars. They will usually do anything to get what they want.”
Daughter! Guy remembered the faint lines on Abigail’s stomach. She’d had a child. If Dora was her daughter she must have been very young. It hit him like a cannonball and he wanted to scream at the world. She would have been very young indeed. He hugged her tighter. Oh my God. Everything Patrick had said about Abigail was true. He’d heard of a brothel in London that sold young, very young girls, to men of quality and money, who wanted virgins—the younger the better. He had seen so much cruelty in this world and still he was shocked and ashamed that this went on in his country and by men of privilege. The strong preying on the weak was the way of the world, he knew he couldn’t change that, but the idea that Abigail had gone through that as a mere child made him want to pull her into his arms and never let her go. What an amazing woman to have overcome all of that and to have built this world for herself and Dora. His heart filled with love and protectiveness.
She was still crying and she would not look at him. He swung her into his arms. “Take Patrick to the stables and I’ll talk to him there.” Without a backward glance he collected Bolton and handed Abigail onto his stallion and then swung up behind her.
“What about Lady’s Secret?” she said in a small voice.
“Brodie will bring her.”
They rode back to the house in silence. He was choking on his rage. Rage at Patrick for kidnapping Dora, for trying to hurt Abigail by revealing her private horror to the world and taking pleasure in it.
When they reached the house he pulled her off Bolton and left Brodie to take care of the horses. Kit would handle Patrick. Guy would leave him in Kit’s capable and merciless hands. God help his cousin if Dora had been hurt in any way.
He nodded to Giles as he held the front door open, and proceeded to carry Abigail to his bedchamber, not caring who saw, or what they thought. He laid her gently on his bed and brushed the hair from her face. She still would not look at him.
“You’ll have to look at me sometime, my sweet.” His soft words saw her try to roll on her side and bury her face in the pillows.
“I wish I’d killed him. We have to find Dora! I should have protected her.”
“I should have protected her.” Her soft words broke his heart. “I for one am very pleased you did not kill him. Killing a man would stay with you forever. Killing a person takes a piece of your soul no matter how evil they are.”
“I’m not sure I have a soul.”
His fingers found her chin and turned her face to him. She was so beautiful. He pressed a brief kiss to her lips. “Patrick Neville is the only person without a soul around here.”
She looked into his eyes and he saw the pain and shame blazing and he wanted to take that away. He wanted her to see what a wonderful person she was. “You are so beautiful.”
She shook her head and tears fell. “Everything he said about me is true.”
“I know. But you were a child. An innocent who had her innocence ripped from her. My heart wants to make those memories go away for good, but they have made you the woman you are—strong, indestructible. We will not let a man like Patrick Neville win.”
She began her story. “My mother owned a brothel. I don’t know who my father was. She was never a mother in the true sense you know. Perhaps you can imagine due to how your father treated you. Mother came to my room one night and told me everyone had to earn their keep. She sold me in an auction that very night. I was twelve years old.”
Guy held perfectly still trying to keep the pity off his face. She would not want pity.
“When I fell with child, Mother tried to get rid of the baby. I almost died. She must have had some compassion, as she gave up and left me alone. I had Dora six months after I turned thirteen.” He lay down next to her and held her close. “It took me weeks to recover but when I did, I learned my mother was going to sell Dora. She was mine and from the moment she was born I loved her. So I left and took to the streets.” She sighed. “Just remembering—it’s like it happened to someone else but it still makes me feel dirty.”
“You were a child, for goodness sake. None of this was your fault. If your mother was still alive I’d kill her. She’s not, is she?”
“I have no idea and I don’t care.”
Abigail wept softly until he wiped the tears away. “Get it all out. I need you strong for Dora’s sake. We will find her. I won’t let Patrick or his men hurt her because of me.”
“What are we going to do? You can’t sign the estate away. Think of you
r family.”
“So selfless and so brave…”
She finally looked at him. “I wasn’t brave I was stupid. Dora and I would have died if Molly had not found me. She worked for the charity Mrs. Wakefield had started for unmarried women with children, and I lived with her. Molly was more of a mother to me than the woman that bore me. The rest of what I told you was true. Mrs. Wakefield took an interest in my drawing and I found a way to rise out of the gutter and I swore I was never going back.”
“You will never have to if I have anything to say about the matter. Marry me.”
She cupped his cheek. “I can never marry you. You already have a secret you want to hide from the world. I’m just another dirty secret that could hurt you and your family. Someone is bound to recognize me one day.”
“You’re wrong. Your story only makes me want to marry you more. Can you not see what an amazing woman you are? You took on the world and won. You raised a beautiful, talented, and kind daughter, and built a life you can call your own. I’d be proud to have you by my side, to be the mother of my children. We are more alike than I thought. Both of us had parents who I hope are rotting in hell, but we survived. We are two of a kind.”
She looked at him as if she didn’t believe his sincerity. “I can’t think of anything right now except finding Dora.”
“It’s late. Why don’t you get some sleep and I’ll go and find out what Kit has managed to learn from Patrick?” He made to rise.
“Thank you, Guy.”
“For what, my love.”
“For asking for my hand in marriage regardless of my—upbringing.”
“I love you, Abigail.” He stroked her cheek. “Always. And soon I’ll prove it to you. Then you will have no choice but to marry me.”
With that he left to find Kit. There was no point signing Patrick’s document because it would not get them Dora back, and Kit knew that too. Patrick would conceal Dora from them for the rest of their lives, because once she was free, Patrick knew Guy would fight to get back his estate. Patrick would hold her until he could find a way to kill Guy and get his hands on the title as well.
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